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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023665">The Challenge</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeBans/pseuds/RaeBans'>RaeBans</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SK8 the Infinity (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cute, F/M, Gen, M/M, Skateboarding, Some adult language, i love joe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:14:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29023665</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeBans/pseuds/RaeBans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re a skater who’s caught the attention of the Fastest Six Pack Skater, but he can’t seem to grab yours. You’re the only person at S who doesn’t seem effected by his charm. It only makes him want you more. One night, Joe challenges you to a skate beef. The wager? Just one date with him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Challenge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the prequel or part I to 'The Date'. You don't have to read one to understand the other, but I hope you'll take a look at both! Enjoy~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You stand at the starting line with your board securely under one of your feet. It’s loud as usual. The crowds huddling near rusted fences chatter with excitement and energy music blasts over speaker. Still you can pick out the sounds of women squeeing in delight for you competitor. Every now and then you hear an encouraging comment being thrown your way. Something along the lines of <em>“kick his ass”</em> and <em>“put him in his place.”</em> You can’t make it out clearly, but it’s gasoline to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You take a deep breath as you steel your mind before the upcoming race. The smells of S fill your nose. It’s a cacophony of clashing scents. The fragrance of cheap perfumes, the aroma of cigarettes, and the odor of sweat mingle together to make the familiar, distinctive smell that is S. You glance to your left, sneaking a peek at the other skater. Joe is standing at the staring line as well. He's busy basking in the attention of his adoring fan base. Ladies clamor over each other. Each of them wants their special and unique “Good luck, Joe!” to be heard. He smiles dashingly. Every wink and finger gun is fully loaded, striking at the women’s hearts he gives them a fleeting glance. You hear swooning and the thud of bodies hitting the ground as they pass out from excitement. You scoff.</p><p>A siren blares several time. The crowd starts to calm down and people clear from the track. Static buzzes as the security team comforts a secure course.</p><p>It’s starting.</p><p>A young woman with a blonde blow out struts into the middle of the track. Her body is wrapped in a tight mini dress, and she holds an enormous flag with an S logo printed on the fabric. She stands at the ready; you don’t miss how Joe blows a kiss at her or how it makes her blush. You want to gag, but you need to focus. You can’t lose to him. You can’t lose now when the steaks are so high. You prepare your stance as the lights count down.</p><p>The red bulb flashes. The woman waves her flag. You and Joe take off. You’re more nervous than you thought you’d be. On another night, you’d have sharp, razor like focus and you’d blaze through the course with confidence. You shake your head, but your thoughts are racing as fast as your skateboard. For some reason, you think about Joe and wonder how you were dragged into this. </p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Joe skates over to you. His jacket, hanging loosely on his arms, flutters as wind rushes by and blows cool air over his toned body. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Blaze!” he waves. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You ignore him. You just wanted to have a nice warm-up skate before the festivities started. Once the beefs start, it’s practically impossible to get out on the course again if you don’t have a race. You don’t have anything on the docket, no pending challenges for you. So you're just here tonight to enjoy the thrill of rushing down a mounting and flying through mine shafts. You actually plan on leaving once you’re done with this course. You've had a long week. You've earned this. You just want to skateboard in peace at your favorite skate hang, but a fly is buzzing in your ear.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Blaze! Blaze! Hi!” </em>
</p><p>Ignore<em>, you tell yourself. But he’s difficult to disregard when he’s right next to you, waving a gloved hand in your face. </em></p><p>
  <em>“Blaze, you didn’t hear me?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I did,” you don’t say anything more. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re ignoring me?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You continue to give him a silent treatment, hoping the hint would finally be hammered into his thick skull. He sighs dramatically. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re so cute, but you’re so mean, Blaze.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Shut up, Joe.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He only laughs, “You’re as cold as ever. But I know it’s because you’re trying to hide your burning passion for me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You gag, “As if. I don’t like you, Joe. You’re annoying.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why don’t you like me?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Because I don’t.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You flip your board in front of him. It’s a mean, disrespectful move that’s throws him off balance; you take the opportunity to lower your stance and speed away. Joe teeters precariously, arms flailing wildly, but he manages to keep both feet on the board. He catches up to you swiftly. This time he’s more cautious of the distance between you. He’s close enough for his voice to be heard, but not close enough for him to be thrown off balance by another one of your tight skating tricks. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That was mean, Blaze!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“This is S, Joe. What are you going to do? Cry about it?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He pouts, letting his pompous persona fall away for a moment, “You’re always so mean to me. Why don’t you like me? Everyone likes me, you know.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Cherry Blossom-san hates you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, that doesn’t count. I hate him back.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why does it even matter if I like you or not? Aren’t your adoring fans enough?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I just feel like we’d really like each other if got to know each other.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Please, I wouldn’t go out with you if you were the last person on Earth.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hm, what about if I was a person who won a skate beef.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Excuse me?” your head whips around to face him; you know exactly what he’s planning. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Blaze,” he says with a grin and a flashy wink, “I challenge you to a race. If I win, you go on just one date with me. If you win, I won’t bother you anymore. Do you accept?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Honestly, you don’t really have a choice. No matter the wager, if you skate at S, you don’t turn down a challenge. It’s not a written rule; there aren’t many written rules at S. It’s more like a silent pact that you all follow because your pride as skaters won’t let you do otherwise. You suck your teeth. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Fine. You’re on.”</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>The two of you are side by side, elbowing and shoving each other as you both try to take the lead. Joe manages to keep you at bay using his sheer size alone. You latch a hand into his jacket and yank him backwards with all the force you can muster. He doesn’t fall, but in this moment, you are able to over take him. With a glare, you spin in front of him, trying to make him wipeout. Joe is forced to reduce his speed; if he gets any closer, you might actually take him out. He’s impressed, but you are an impressive person. Anyone other than you would’ve bailed hard if they tried to trip up your opponent like you did. You make another attempt to send him crashing to the ground. Joe narrowly avoids your attack. He swerves to the right and uses a perfectly sloped rock to launch himself into the air.</p><p>You watch as he soars above your head. He lands with ease and precision then disappears behind a sharp turn in a flash. Even though you’re technically losing at the moment, a feeling of admiration rises in you before your rational brain can stop it. You hate him, but you love his skating. In your opinion, Joe is a self-centered narcissist. You don’t care for people who play with the minds, bodies, and emotions of others so easily; it disgusts you. His mind only has the capacity for two things. One, unabashedly selfish thoughts. And, two, skateboarding.</p><p>The way he moves is bold, dynamic, and wild. He skates fearlessly with pure instinct, and uses his massive, sculpted body to pull off moves you couldn’t think of. There isn’t an ounce of hesitation inside of him; he takes every corner with full speed, improvising along the way. You aren’t a slouch either. What you lack in raw strength and instinct, you make up for with precise technique and intellect.</p><p>“Joe!” you shout as you speed into the final stage.</p><p>He looks over his shoulder and sees you looking back with determined eyes. The two of you skate cross a deteriorating walkway that’s suspended in the air. You try to squeeze past him, but he swiftly blocks your way with his large frame. You scowl. Joe smiles.</p><p>“Where should we have our date, Blaze?” he teases.</p><p>“<em>Fuck you</em>.”</p><p>“That’s what I’m hoping for.”</p><p>You blush. His words cause you to falter. Joe smirks toothily. He takes advantage of your momentary slip up. You recovery quickly, but, at S, the smallest hiccup can cost you a race. And it does. He flies across the finish like. You follow a second later.</p><p>He wins.</p><p>You lose.</p><p>You’re breathing heavily as you watch Joe bask in the satisfying feeling of victory. Your hands ball into fist and Joe celebrates his triumph in a swarm of fawning women. Even though he’s crowded by people, you catch him winking at you. You dig your nails into your palms. Losing is already bad enough, but now you are duty bound to fulfill your wager.</p><p>You have to go on a date with Joe.</p><p>
  <em>Dammit.</em>
</p>
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